Vintage Stuff

'Who happens to be in the Outer Hebrides.'

'In the circumstances I'm sure he'll return immediately. I'll wire him to say that you're here. Now would you like me to find some accommodation locally? There's an excellent hotel in Leominster.'

When they left, the Clyde-Brownes were slightly happier in their minds. 'Thank God someone round here seems to have his head screwed on the right way,' said Mr Clyde-Browne.

'And he did seem to think that Peregrine was in safe hands,' said his wife, 'I do hope he's right.'

Mr Clyde-Browne kept his thoughts on the subject to himself. His hopes were rather different. He was wondering how best to intimidate the Headmaster into paying considerable damages for the loss of a son.

In the school office Slymne picked up the phone and dialled the campsite in Scarborough. About the only bright spot he could see on the horizon was that the Clyde-Brownes were evidently reluctant to call in the police.

Chapter 17

It was mid-morning before the Headmaster arrived to be met by a haggard and desperate Slymne. His conversation with the Major the previous night, assisted by a bottle of whisky, had appalled him. Glodstone had told the Major where he was going. And since he had confided so much it seemed all too likely that he had kept those damning letters. Slymne had spent a sleepless night trying to think of some way to dissociate himself from the whole ghastly business. The best strategy seemed to be to show that he had already acted responsibly.

'I've checked the railway station and the bus people,' he told the Headmaster, 'and it's clear that Clyde-Browne didn't leave by bus or train on the 31st, which is the day he went missing.'

'That's a great help,' said the Headmaster. 'What I want to know is where he did go. I've got to have something to tell his bloody parents.'

'Well, Mrs Brossy at the Post Office thinks she saw Glodstone pick a young man up outside her shop around midday.'

The Headmaster slumped into a chair behind his desk. 'Oh, my God! And I don't suppose anyone has a clue where the lunatic took him?'

Slymne played his ace. 'Strictly in confidence, sir, I did manage to get Major Fetherington to tell me that Glodstone had said he was going to France by way of Ostend.'

'Going to France by way of Ostend? Ostend's in bloody Belgium. Are you seriously telling me that that one-eyed maniac has dragged the son of a prominent solicitor out of this country without asking his parents' permission?'

Slymne demurred. 'I'm not exactly saying that, sir. I'm merely repeating what the Major told me in strict confidence and I'd appreciate it if you kept my name out of the business. I mean '

'Damn Major Fetherington. If Glodstone's gone to France with that ghastly boy we'll all have to go into business. We'll certainly be out of teaching.'

'Quite,' said Slymne. 'Anyway, acting on the Major's tip I phoned the Channel ferry services at Dover to ask if they could confirm it.'

'And did they?'

'Not in so many words. They wanted to know who I was and what my interest was and I didn't think I'd better say anything more until I'd spoken to you. Mr Clyde-Browne didn't strike me as a man who'd take kindly to the news that his son had gone abroad with Glodstone.'

The Headmaster closed his eyes and shuddered. From his previous dealings with Peregrine's father he'd gained the distinct impression that Mr Clyde-Browne didn't count kindliness as one of his strong points. 'So that's all the information we have? Is that what you're saying?'

Slymne hesitated. 'I can't speak for the Major but I have an idea he knows more than he was prepared to tell me.'

'By God, he'll tell me,' said the Headmaster savagely. 'Go and get the fellow.'

Slymne slipped out of the room and crossed the quad to the San. 'The old man wants to see you,' he told the Major, whose physical condition hadn't been improved by a dreadful hangover, 'and if I were in your shoes, I'd tell him everything you know.'

'Shoes?' said the Major. 'If I had shoes and wasn't in a wheelchair I'd have been out of here long ago. Oh well, into the firing line.'

It was an appropriate metaphor. The Headmaster was ready to do murder. 'Now then, I understand Glodstone told you he was going to France by way of Ostend,' he said, ignoring Slymne's plea for discretion. The Major nodded unhappily. 'Did he also tell you he was taking Clyde-Browne with him?'

'Of course not,' said the Major rallying, 'I wouldn't have let him.'

'Let him tell you or let him take the boy?' asked the Headmaster, glad to take his feelings out on a man he'd never much liked anyway.

'Take him, of course.'

'What else did he tell you?'

Major Fetherington looked reproachfully at Slymne. 'Well, if you must know, he said he'd been asked to undertake a secret mission, something desperately dangerous. And in case he bought it...'

'Bought it? Bought what, for Heaven's sake?'

'Well, if things went wrong and got himself killed or something, he wanted me to look after his interests.'

'Interests?' snapped the Headmaster, preferring not to dwell on 'killed'. 'What interests?'

'I really don't know. I suppose he meant let the police know or get him a decent funeral. He left it a bit vague.'

'He needn't have. I'll fix his funeral,' said the Headmaster. 'Go on.'

'Not much else to tell really,' said the Major hesitantly but the Headmaster wasn't deceived.

'The lot, Fetherington, the lot. You leave out one jot or tittle and you'll be hobbling down to join the ranks of the unemployed and I don't mean tomorrow.'

The Major tried to cross his legs and failed. 'All right, if you really want to know, he said he'd been asked by the Countess of Montcon '

'The Countess of Montcon?'

'Wanderby's mother, he's a boy in Gloddie's, the one with allergies and whatnot, to go down to her Château...You're not going to believe this.'

'Never mind that,' said the Headmaster, who appeared to be in the grip of some awful allergy himself.

'Well, she wanted him to rescue her from some gang or other.'

'Some gang or other? You mean to tell me...The man must be off his bloody rocker.'

'That's what I told him,' said the Major. 'I said, "Listen, old boy, someone's having you on. Get on the blower and call her up and see if I'm not right." But you know what Glodstone's like.'

'I'm beginning to get a shrewd idea,' said the Headmaster. 'Mad as a March fucking hare. Don't let me stop you.'

'That's about the lot really. I had no idea he was going to take Perry with him.'

'So you've said before, and it's not the lot.'

The Major tried to focus his thoughts. 'About the only other thing I can think of is that he asked me to let him have a couple of revolvers from the Armoury. Naturally I wasn't buying that one '

'A couple of revolvers from the School Armoury? Jesus wept! And that didn't tell you anything?'

'Only that he was obviously dead serious about the whole business. I mean obviously '

'A couple of revolvers, you moron,' shouted the Headmaster, 'not just one. Who the hell do you think the second one was for?'

'Now that you come to mention it '

'Mention it? Mention it?' yelled the Headmaster. 'What I want to know is why you didn't mention it at the bloody time?'

'Well, since he didn't get them there didn't seem much point,' said the Major. 'If Glodstone wanted to go off on some wild goose chase that was his affair and '

'Slymne,' interrupted the Headmaster before the Major could say it was no skin off his nose what Glodstone did, 'take him to the Armoury and see that there aren't two revolvers and half a dozen rifles missing. I want every weapon accounted for.'